


Something Special

by themoonandotherslikeit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Long Term Relationship, Love, Mutual Pinning, Smut, otp, relationship, self doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonandotherslikeit/pseuds/themoonandotherslikeit
Summary: After dating Dean Winchester for several years, you’d think that he would already know how you feel about him. After a hunt he comes home to you in the bunker and decides to give you a special day to show you what you mean to him.“I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but i ask you to remember. Somewhere inside of me there will always be the person I am tonight.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald





	Something Special

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deans-baby-momma](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Deans-baby-momma).



> This is set vaguely during season 14 between getting rid of Micheal and soulless Jack problems.   
> This was a request for @deans-baby-momma on tumblr. :) enjoy!

##  _Her_

The sounds of the bunker were lulling me to sleep. The clicks and hums of the air conditioning, the groans of the pipes, and the beeps of the various machines that kept the underground sanctuary running all used to keep me awake. After all of this time, though, they became relaxing. Familiar. 

I had a place of my own, of course, an apartment that I kept around because of some tug in my gut that kept me from trusting people, no matter how much time I spent with them. It wasn’t about the Winchester’s, obviously. It was more about everything else. The life they lived was dangerous, and I half expected to show up at the bunker one day to see it caved in on its self. So I kept my apartment as an insurance policy. _That_ and I hadn’t officially been asked to move in.

I was cuddled into Dean’s bed, because he was supposed to be back any time. Waiting for Dean Winchester proved to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. There was something to be said about watching someone go. He always had one foot out the door and a finger on the trigger of his gun. I couldn’t ask him to stop, to wait, because he was _Dean_. I knew what I signed up for. So, I waited. He wasn’t good at texting and sometimes he forgot to call. I couldn’t count on both hands the amount of _sorry babe, phone died_ texts I’d received over the years. I’d take that any day over the phone calls from Sam that ended with _something happened to Dean_.

It isn’t easy being the one left behind.

##  _Him_

It ain’t easy being the one always leaving. 

If I was being honest, I never thought that I’d have somethin’ worth going home to, but there I was, tapping the steering wheel and squinting into the darkness, because I was ready to be home. It wasn’t the bunker that I was rushing to. It was _her_. I knew that she’d be there waiting for me when I got home, because she always was. After I hunt, the sheets were always washed and the beer was restocked. I didn’t deserve that shit, but I did everything I could to try to earn it.

“Dude you look exhausted, don’t you think we should just stop? We can take a nap or something,” Sammy offered from the passenger seat.

“We used to drive through the night all the time,” I said dismissively.

“Yeah,” he snorted. “But that was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before you got fucking old,” my not-so-little brother joked.

“If I’m old, that means _you’re_ old.” I leaned over and jabbed my knuckle into his breastbone. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m sure as shit not ready for that.”

“It’d help if you exercised and ate better.”

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose, actually thankful for the distraction since it was keeping me from nodding off at the wheel. “Don’t start with that again. I’m fit as a fiddle.”

“You survive off grease, beer, and coffee. I haven’t seen you work out in… maybe ever? So of course you’re getting winded on chases.”

“I was not winded.” I was fucking _beat_ , but there was no way I was admitting that to him. “I’ve still got it, and don’t you fuckin’ forget who taught you everything you learned.”

“Dad?”

“Shut up.”

“I bet Y/N would appreciate you taking better care of yourself…”

“Don’t use her against me,” I snapped. “Just shut up so I can drive.”

“Just saying, we’d all like you to live longer.”

“Sam,” I sighed. My knuckles were white as I gripped the wheel. The skin was peeling from where my fist collided with a shifter. It was a relief, working such a normal case after all the shit we’d been through. It wasn’t as much of a relief that my knuckles still throbbed hours later, and my right foot tingled a bit from sitting too long in the car. “You know how this ends for me. For both of us, most likely. I’ll go out at the end of the barrel of a gun, some grand explosion, or fuck, maybe Chuck will be tired of me and finally put me out of my damn misery. Don’t think extra bacon is gonna make that big of a difference.”

I hated being that way with the kid, but what I hated even more was being reminded that time was limited. I was always running on borrowed time. I had been since the day at the crossroads that I gave up my soul for Sam’s. I wasn’t supposed to get out of Hell, and the last decade and some change were all extra. It should be easy, looking at it like that, but it never was. If I hadn’t been plucked from the pit then I wouldn’t have met Y/N. I’m not scared of dying. I’ve done that more times than I care to remember, but saying goodbye to her? That was the unthinkable.

We did everything we could to keep it casual. No real attachment. I couldn’t give her something to latch on to, because I was always going. I warned her, _there’s no guarantees with me, Sweetheart. “There’s no guarantees with anyone, Dean,”_ she said with that little smirk where her eyes were wide open like she saw right through me. She had me. I was spent. Every time I came home I’d expect that to be the time that she wasn’t there, that she’d be done, but every time I was wrong. Never been so glad to be wrong in my life.

So when I was home, I was with her. I was all in, and when I was out on a hunt I tried not to think about her. I tried not to think about the risk, about all the shit that I risked every day on the job. I couldn’t, because if I did, then I’d never leave that fucking bed. There’s only so much a man can take.

##  _Her_

I wasn’t sure when I drifted to sleep, but I heard the soft sound of boots against the floors as Dean tried to sneak in to not wake me. He was sweet for trying. I tried to stay still as I heard the slow _zip_ of his jeans and his clothes falling to the floor. The bed groaned under his weight as he climbed in and laid on his side facing me. He rested his head on the bicep of his right arm and ran his left hand down my side.

I let out a sleepy hum and scooted closer to him, sliding my leg between his. I wrapped an arm around him and brushed my nose with his. “You didn’t call,” I murmured softly.

“Phone was-“

“Dead,” I finished his sentence. “I figured.”

“You mad?” Dean pushed my hair out of my face, and the callouses on his fingers brushed against my skin.

“At you? No.”

“How about in general?”

“It’s the middle of the night, Dean,” I grumbled, pressing a light kiss to the rough skin along his jaw. “I’m _generally_ trying to sleep.”

He exhaled out his nose, and I felt his lips curl at my forehead in his patented shit-eating smirk. “If you wanted to sleep you wouldn’t be here.”

I rolled my eyes in the darkness and tangled my fingers in the back of his t-shirt. “How do you figure that?”

“Because you knew the moment I got here I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

My eyes flickered up to his in the darkness. “What am I, a mind reader?”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “When it comes to me, you are.”

I laughed quietly and buried my face in his neck, feeling his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“Come on,” he whispered roughly. “Tell me what I’m thinkin’. I know you know.”

I did. Of course I did. I ran my fingers up his back, rolling them over his shoulders, and finally resting them on his chest. I pushed him onto his back and settled on his lap, straddling him. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his neck, jaw, lips.

“Hit the nail on the head, Sweetheart,” he groaned quietly, resting his hands on my hips.

“I missed you,” I admitted against his skin.

He pulled my face away from his and held it in his hands. “Sometimes I start missin’ you before I even go.”

_Then don’t go_. I wanted to say it a thousand times, but I didn’t. I kissed him instead, because although we weren’t always good at saying what we were thinking… we were good at that. We talked without words. We said _I m_ _iss you, don’t leave me again, I need you…_ We said everything that we couldn’t say out loud, until we fell asleep, tangled together under the thin sheets.

##  _Him_

I woke up before her. That was rare. Usually she was the one bringing me coffee and insisting that it’s time for _the bear_ to come out of his cave. How was I supposed to want to get out of bed when she was sleeping in just my shirt? Her self-control was worlds beyond mine. She’s more evolved, or so she said.

I rubbed my eyes and drug myself to the kitchen to make coffee.

“You’re up early,” Sam scrutinized, eyeing me from over his newspaper. “It’s before ten.”

“Thanks for the play by play,” I grumbled, starting a new pot of coffee.

“Figured Y/N would be keeping you busy.”

“She’s tired.”

“Think she’s sick?”

“Nah.” _Maybe just sick of me_. I hated the insecurities. It felt like I was some teenage girl. I had bigger problems than a girl, right? I pinched the bridge of my nose and listened to the coffee maker gurgle to life. “We haven’t gotten much time together lately.”

“She’s always seemed cool with it. The job, I mean,” Sam commented, laying his paper down. He pressed the crease, folding it back down.

“She is, man. She’s cool about everything.” I picked at a scab on my knuckle. “Even if she shouldn’t be.”

Sam stood up, his chair scratching against the floor of the kitchen. “What’s going on, Dean?”

I sighed. “I guess we just aren’t getting any younger, ya know? She’s gotta want more than all of this.”

My brother crossed his arms. “Did she say that?”

“No, not explicitly.”

“Then what _did_ she say?”

“She missed me.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and let out a laugh that sounded almost relieved. “That’s a good thing, man.”

I sighed and poured myself a cup of coffee now that it stopped spitting. “I just… she’s it for me, ya know? I don’t want to fuck this up. We’ve been doin’ good up until this point. I just wonder if she knows how important she is to me, to _us_. Since I’m always runnin’ off. Man, you know what that looks like.”

He nodded knowingly, and I handed him the cup of coffee before opting to open a beer for myself instead. “Maybe you should do something special for her.”

I let the foam from the beer sit on my tongue for a second before swallowing. “Special, huh? Like what?”

“I dunno, man.” Sam laughed, slapping my back supportively. “She’s your girl. If I help you, then it wouldn’t be special, would it?” He sat down his coffee and grabbed his headphones. “I’m going to go for a run. Mull on that, will you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said dismissively, frowning at the idea of running. Just the concept had my hip aching, or maybe it was from sitting in the car for twelve hours.

Sam plugged his headphones in and jogged up the stairs. I looked at the beer in my hand. _“I bet Y/N would appreciate you taking better care of yourself…”_ I sighed, _bastard_ , and dumped my beer down the sink. He was right, of fucking course he was. I should’ve done somethin’ for her ages ago. A day just for us. Then we could feel things out, and maybe she will want to keep me around.

Just maybe

##  _Her_

I rolled over and almost fell off the goddamn bed. I grabbed blindly for my phone on the bedside table and squinted at the time. _Eleven AM?_ _Dean didn’t wake me?_ I rubbed my eyes and yawned, stretching my legs. It was unusual for him to wake up before me. Mostly because I was used to getting up for work, and he was tired in a way that I’d never understand.

“Dean?” I clicked on the bedside lamp and raised an eyebrow. “What the hell?” I crawled to the end of the bed and let my feet touch the cool floor. My clothes were laid out on Dean’s desk, a sundress, shoes, with a piece of paper sitting on top of it all. I walked to the desk and picked up the paper, it was an old Seven Eleven receipt with something scrawled in hurried text on the back. _Just me and you today. Put on the dress. -D_

My heartbeat picked up as I ran my fingers over his words. He wasn’t the note type. Hell, he wasn’t the pick-out-clothes type either. I sat down the page and picked up the dress. It was cotton, light, red. It came up as a halter to tie around my neck. I didn’t mean to leave the dress behind, or maybe I did. I didn’t expect that he’d keep it. The memory was seared into my brain. It felt like a lifetime ago that he untied the knot around my neck, kissing over my pulse point, as his hands slid up the bottom of the dress, fingers caressing my thighs, pulling it up and over my head. He just kept mumbling, _“Damn it, Sweetheart, you look so fuckin’ good. God, how’d you get to be so fuckin’ pretty? You’re like a goddamn flower. Like a picture. Shit.”_

I smiled and pressed the fabric to my nose breathing in the pine and whiskey that was Dean Winchester. My Dean. It still made my heart flutter thinking about it. It was a lifetime ago that I wore it. Surely it wouldn’t fit. I wasn’t that young girl anymore, but I stepped out of his clothes anyway and tried the dress, pulling it over my head. It was snug in my breasts, where they’d grown over the years, but with some scooping and readjusting, I decided that I liked it better that way.

I looked in the mirror, letting my hair spill over my shoulders in the way that he liked and applied the red lipstick that made his head spin. Hell, if we were doing this, whatever it was, I was putting in one hundred percent. Which included leaving the panties he picked out laying on his pillow, because he wasn’t the only one that was full of surprises.

I walked into the kitchen and found another note, this time a bright pink post-it note, stuck to a can of beer. It read, _shotgun this one, and meet me at the car. -D_ The eternal romantic, my Dean. I smiled and rolled my eyes. I pulled out my spare key and stabbed the can, popping the tab, and guzzling the beer down. I barely spilled any out of the corner of my mouth, my lipstick still in tact. Beer for breakfast was a Winchester original cuisine and before I stayed at the bunker regularly, it was the only thing in the fridge.

I took a deep breath, the beer sloshing inside of my empty stomach. I used to be worried about Dean’s liver, but the real concern wasn’t the burgers and the beer... it was the monsters. It was why he didn’t get close, why he didn’t care what he ate or drank, because he didn’t think he’d live as long as he had already. Each day was a gift. I looked down at his note again, swallowing the awful gut feeling that was brewing inside of me. I wondered what gifts the day had to offer.

When I walked into the garage he was leaning against the Impala, with his arms crossed. He was squinting down at his phone, scrolling with his index finger. I cleared my throat and he glanced up at me through his sunglasses. The corners of his mouth tugged up into an eager smile. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

“What’s going on, Dean?”

Even through the dark shades I could see that his eyes were focused on me. “Come ‘ere.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile that was bubbling inside of me. I couldn’t help it. He pulled joy out of me like he was wringing out a rag. One look had it seeping out of my pores. I walked to him and fell right into his arms. His hands landed on my hips, squeezing gently. “Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey back.” Dean nuzzled his nose against mine and pressed a warm, gentle kiss against my lips. It was familiar, like saying hello. “I see you’ve done your note.” His tongue shot out and ran over his bottom lip, as if he was trying to taste me.

“I did.”

“Good.” He smiled, moving his hands from my hips. “After you,” he said, opening up the passenger door.

I slid into the Impala, breathing in the familiar smell of leather and Dean. “Did you detail the car?” I asked, running my hands over the seats. It was missing the ever lingering smell of blood and man sweat.

“Mhm.” He started the car, his shoulders relaxing at the hum of the engine.

“When did you have time?”

“I’ve been up for awhile,” Dean said like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You’re never up early, especially after a hunt. What’s going on, Dean? Is everything okay?”

“What? I can’t do somethin’ nice for my girl?” He shook his head strumming on the steering wheel as we got on the road.

I shifted in my seat, flattening my dress. I turned to look at him, shifting my body so I could almost face him completely. “You can. I’m just surprised.”

“Well, good,” Dean grunted, moving one of his hands off the steering wheel to rest it in my lap. “Because it’s supposed to be a surprise. Means I’m doin’ good.”

I linked my fingers with his and squeezed his palm gently. I reached forward and turned on his music. I didn’t get enough of a chance to look at him normally. The moments were few and fleeting and usually when I looked at him, it felt like he was falling through my fingers like sand. I wanted to pull my phone out and take a picture of him, record him singing along to Simple Man, making my heart do flips.

Sometimes the most mundane things were the most beautiful. When we first were seeing each other we would drive around in the Impala, sing, laugh, and make out. I felt like a teenager, but instead of hiding from my parents, we were hiding from Sam.

“Troubles will come and they will pass. You'll find a woman and you'll find love,” Dean sang out.

I laughed and shook my head. “God, my ears are bleeding.”

“Hey, that’s rude.” Dean pulled his hand from mine and poked my ribs, inducing an embarrassing giggle fit.

“Quit! You’re going to make us crash,” I laughed, swatting his hand away. “You’re a problem, Winchester.”

“You _love it_ , Sweetheart.”

I did. “Shut up.”

“Make me.” Dean winked at me and turned back to the road.

“How much longer until we get to wherever we are going, because trust me I will.”

“Thirty seconds.”

I raised an eyebrow as we turned down a dirt road. “Where are we?” I looked out the window, trying to make sense of our location. We hadn’t been driving for long, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy watching him.

We drove past the trees and pulled up onto the grass in front of a small lake. It was peaceful, _blue_ , with the reflection of the sky and the trees in the water like a mirror. The lake was manmade, with a fake sand beach. “Dean Winchester, did you bring me to the _lake_?”

“Good, I was worried your eyes were gettin’ bad,” he snickered, opening the door.

I rolled my eyes and got out of the car. “Okay, spill already. What’s going on?”

“Just relax.” He popped the trunk and pulled out an honest to goodness picnic basket. He flung a blanket over his shoulder and grabbed a cooler with his free hand. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“All I’ve had is that beer.”

“Breakfast of champions.”

I followed him down to the sand and he settled the cooler and basket, before laying out the blanket. “We’re having a picnic?”

“You feeling okay?” He asked me, putting a hand on my forehead. “Maybe you shouldn’t have had that beer.” He laughed shaking his head. “Sit down, baby.”

I rolled my eyes, letting out a dramatic huff as I plopped onto the blanket. “Did you cook?”

“Nope.” Dean opened up the basket and pulled out two brown paper sacks. Burgers from Hal’s. It was our favorite place. It was where we spent our first date. He even split his french fries with me. It was a big moment. “M’lady.”

“I _knew_ I liked you!”

“Burgers are the way to your heart, noted.”

I leaned forward and kissed him, running my fingers across his rough jaw. He hummed into my lips, pulling me closer. His hands hooked at my waist and took me onto his lap. I ran my hands over his shoulders and down the center of his back. His tongue ran over my bottom lip and into my mouth. He was warm, soft, and sending chills up my spine. I tilted my head to deepen the kiss, brushing my chest against his. I couldn’t get enough of him. He surprised me. He surprises me every day that I’m with him.

##  _Him_

How the fuck was I supposed to focus at making things special when Y/N was sitting on me with that fucking dress on? What was I thinking? I ain’t cut out for this romantic shit. The making her scream out on a not-so-private beach, yeah that I can do easy, but the gooey romantic shit? I’ve never had to do it. I never wanted to before her.

I moved from kissing her lips to her jaw, slow and precise. I knew what she liked. I always thought being with one person would be a problem, that it’d be boring, but I didn’t anticipate _her._

We knew each other inside out. She knew me and knew that I liked when her lips barely brushed over my nipples, and I knew right where that sensitive spot was on the inside of her left thigh. I knew shit about her that she didn’t even know. The freckles on her back from wearing a sleeveless shirt in the sun. The way that her nose wrinkled up when she was pissed off. The way that she swallowed so many things that I knew she wanted to say, but couldn’t, because I was always fucking leaving. Sometimes I wished I wasn’t such a coward. Sometimes I wished I could just tell her the truth, what I was really thinking... I wished a lot of things. My lips traveled up her neck to whisper against her ear. “Eat your burger.”

“So bossy,” she groaned quietly.

I couldn’t help but smirk, she was so fuckin’ cute it almost pissed me off. Wasn’t fair, how after all that time she still looked amazing in that dress. It made my head spin. I tugged at the hemline. “You’re usually the boss, Y/N, today it’s me.”

“Mm, is that so?”

Her voice had that low hum that she got when she was getting turned on, worked up, she got it when she was coming undone. Which, in turn, made me come undone. I slid her down to sit between my legs, trying to avoid pressing my hard on into her back, and handed her the Hal’s bag. “Come on, it’s not good when it’s cold.”

“Says you,” she grumbled.

“Oh, shit, one more surprise.”

I reached into the cooler and pulled out a melting chocolate milkshake and handed it to her. “Wait,” she said with an eyebrow raised. “There isn’t beer in that cooler?”

I scoffed with a sharp laugh. “Of course there’s beer, there’s just also ice cream. Best paired with fries.” I dipped one of mine into her shake and ate it, grinning from the salty and sweet.

“Where’s yours?”

“We’re sharing.” I shrugged, shoving another straw into the dome lid. “It’s cute and shit.”

“I’m a grown ass woman, Dean Winchester. I don’t share my milkshakes.” She turned dramatically with a fake pout, before pulling her knees to her chest. Her dress fell down mid thigh, and she stared out at the water.

I wanted to tell her everything. The way her hair fell in front of her face, the smudge of her lipstick under her bottom lip from kissing, and the way she chewed on her straw absentmindedly made me want to say everything. I wanted her to know my fears, the shit that kept me up all night, I wanted to talk about my dad, about all the weight on my shoulders. I wanted to tell her how sometimes I felt like I was fucking drowning, and I wanted to tell her how she was fresh air. She was my fucking life support. But how could I tell her that? That’s just dumping my weight on her. She doesn’t deserve it. Not any of it.

So, she was looking out at the lake like there’s something really interesting. Like I was missing something. “Hey,” I whispered, wiping her lipstick smudge with my thumb.

“Hm?”

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Fish.”

“Fish? What about fish?”

“The lake is man made, right? So they brought all the fish here. They didn’t grow up here or develop here. They didn’t ask to be here, they just _are_. It’s kind of sad. Tragic.”

She was always doing that shit. Saying something that left me just... empty, hollowed out, and suddenly I didn’t have an intelligent thought it my brain.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, turning to me alarmed.

“Nohin’,” I mumbled.

She squinted at me and shook her head, standing up. “Nope, we aren’t doing this. Me and you, Winchester.”

“What?” I asked, alarmed.

“We aren’t going to not say shit. We aren’t going to swallow it and pout around. I was promised _fun_. So, I have a proposition.”

I cleared my throat. “Okay?”

“Swimming.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t swim and you don’t have a bathing suit.”

She reached back behind her and pulled the tie, loosening her dress. She leaned forward, exposing her cleavage to me, and she pressed her lips to my ear. “Who said anything about a bathing suit,” she whispered.

_Holy shit._

##  _  
__Her_

The look on his face was gold. That slack-jaw, wide eyed, love-spell look. I turned away from him and walked toward the water. I reached down and worked my dress up my thighs. I smiled widely when I heard him suck in his breath at the new knowledge that I’ve been naked under the dress the whole day.

Knowing that I could get a guy like Dean worked up has always been a personal win for me. I mean, _Jesus_ , it was almost disgusting how beautiful he was. He was one of those guys that was cute, sexy, and handsome all at once. He was _hot,_ and he didn’t even try. He was the kind of hot that made me weak in the knees and wishing I’d worn some kind of underwear so I wasn’t so exposed from the desire that came from just hearing him breathe near me.

The water was up to my waist before I felt his strong arms snake around me, thick muscles squeezing around my middle. His chest brushed my back and his teeth nipped against my shoulder. “How do you smell so good?” He growled low, sucking at my skin.

I could ask him the same thing. Usually it was sweat, musk, leather, and booze. But sometimes it was gentler, pine soap, and freshly washed sheets. That sleepy smell that babies had. I couldn’t help but wonder what a baby with him would look like. Fat freckles cheeks, wide green eyes, little whispers of his hair. But the fantasy never lasted long, because the reality was, that if I had a baby Dean, I would have it alone.

I could feel him brush against my lower back, suddenly aware that I wasn’t the only one dripping with need. I turned around to face him, not able to take a solid look before his lips were crashing into mine. It was all teeth, pressure, _pain_. His fingers were knitted in my hair, and his other hand squeezing my ass in his hand. He patted my thigh, prompting me to jump into his arms. I jumped, and he squatted down, catching me with his free hand. My legs pretzeled around his, my thighs squeezing gently.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” Dean growled against my lips, making my head spin all over again.

His hand slid between my thighs with an unbelievable tenderness. His lips slowed against mine, drinking me in. His tongue was almost explorative as he felt every space in my mouth, his lips moving in tandem with the flick of his wrist and gentle caress of his thumb on my clit. I wanted to reach for him, to feel him, but he was buried below me since I was being held above belly button level. So I was stuck with my nails in his back, thighs trembling, sucking on his bottom lip. His hand held my lower back, holding me in place so his fingers could explore a place they already knew, one finger, two, three and my back was arching, head falling back.

Dean kissed between my breasts, leaving purple puckers where his lips were, sealing them with tiny flicks of his tongue. He was slow, deliberate, not quite teasing, and it was _good_. I could feel my eyelashes fluttering and my mouth hanging open as I tried to remember how to breathe, how to hold myself up, how to be alive.

We spent a lot of time like that. Sex. Fucking. It was all bodies, moving, tasting each other. It felt elemental, like it was something nature demanded of us. He was my Dean, and he knew me. But _this_ , this was different. This wasn’t bed breaking, fuck me until I forget how to speak sex.

He whispered against my skin with gentle brushes of his mouth. “Let it out, Sweetheart. Whatever you’re holding inside, I want all of it.”

We spent a lot of time fucking, but this wasn’t that. My eyes fluttered open, and I saw the sun dipping in the distance, oranges and pink streaking through a cloudless blue sky. He was making love to me. That’s what it was. Dean Winchester, the man of quickies in the front seat of the Impala while Sam was on a beer run, was selflessly giving himself over to me asking for nothing in return. If I thought I was gone on him before, I didn’t know shit.

I rolled my spine up, despite the fact that it was complete jelly, and grabbed the back of his neck with both hands. I stared at him with blurry, unfocused eyes. “I want you.”

“You have me,” Dean promised, his gaze intense as his fingers twisted, causing me to gasp out.

“All of you,” I mumbled, pressing my slick forehead to his.

His deep green eyes met mine, all trees reflected in the crystal clear lake, and he smiled. His lips pressed back against mine, and he fulfilled my wishes.

We moved together, sweat mingling with the water, my back arched, his hands pressing me closer. He laid me out, his hand supporting me as my back almost floated in the water, my hair floating out around me. The sun wasn’t gone completely, but I was seeing stars. Fuck, maybe I was seeing Heaven. My ankles had my legs locked around his waist, moving with him as he pressed deeper and rolled his hips. I reached up, pulling myself back up to his face, his lips, pressing our foreheads together.

We slowed. Time slowed. Crawled. We were the only two people in the world. Dean and I were in a bubble that belonged only to us. I suspected then, that maybe this would be how I’d die, wrapped around him like a vine, withering away from desire. I thought for a moment that I may cry, as my legs and stomach tingled from the repetitive movement, from Dean continuing to stroke and press my buttons. I was coming undone. He was peeling me apart piece by piece, undoing me from the inside out until I was just confetti in his hands.

Our eyelashes fluttered, mouths open in a gasp of complete togetherness as we tipped over the edge, and all I could think was, _Jesus Christ, this is it. I’m a fool. I will never survive this. I will love him until the day that I die._

##  _Him_

“One more surprise,” I said with a wide grin, looking at Y/N with her messy lake hair, lounging in my t-shirt and boxers. “Close your eyes.”

She followed my instructions, laying on her back. Her features were relaxed, and I just had to look at her for a minute. She was beautiful in a way that I never understood. It gave me a twist in my gut, like maybe I was looking at something that I shouldn’t. Something good. Sammy always worried that he was unclean, but fuck if I didn’t believe we both were. Cas always said I was the righteous man, but a lot of good that did me in the end. I made the wrong choices over and over again. A million times over, but no matter what I did, she never left. She knew it all, every little bad thing, and she was still there, laying gracefully on the beach at a shitty lake with her eyes closed.

I had this unbelievable moment where it occurred to me that this moment was leaving even as it was happening. We would never have this again no matter how hard we tried. She would never be this beautiful, not like this, and I had this heart stopping realization that I may never care about anyone like this again. It was terrifying. A million times worse than dealing with Lucifer, the darkness, the mark, demons, the end of the fucking world. I don’t do this shit. Tried it with Lis, but then again... Lisa isn’t Y/N. No one is. She’s one of a kind.

If I was a better man, I’d let her leave. I’d send her walking. This life wan’t one for someone like her, but as I watched her painted toes curl into the sand I knew that I never could. I wasn’t a better man. I was just me.

So I brought out the ritual candles that I found in the bunker and stuck them in the sand around us, lighting them, and I pulled Sammy’s laptop out of the trunk, sitting it between us. “Alright, open ‘em.”

She opened one eye at a time, taking everything in. She sat up slowly, propping herself up by her arms. The sun had dipped below the lake, and her features seemed to dance in the candle light. “Are we doing a seance?”

I frowned. “No. Don’t chicks like this shit? Beaches, candle light...”

“This one has blood on it, Dean,” Y/N laughed, pointing at the candle next to her.

“Shit.”

I was wrong, before. She could be more beautiful. As she laughed, her head falling back, my chest ached to hold her. My stomach bubbled up in a laugh, because damn, her laugh was contagious.

“You tried, Dean.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, pulling her against me.

“You’re sweet,” she hummed, her soft fingers against my cheek. My skin was left warm from the brush of her fingers.

“I’m a goddamn mess.”

Her eyes searched mine, and she shook her head. “You’re a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but a mess isn’t one of them.” Then she kissed me, as if it was that easy to accept. As if she had some kind of fucking answer that I didn’t.

“Wait, there’s another part.” I leaned forward and opened up the laptop, hoping that I still remembered how to queue up the movie. Sam had it set up, but I was shit at technology. _Bingo_. I pressed play, and the opening scene of Men in Black started.

“No way,” she gasped, looking at me. “You never want to watch Will Smith movies with me.”

“Never said that.” I shrugged, settling back down.

“You’re jealous of him.”

“No,” I snorted. “I am not.”

“You are,” she teased, pressing her lips to my nose and then the corner of my mouth. My heart hammered in my chest like I was a fucking teenager, and I kind of loved it.

“I’m just sayin’ that I fight real monsters, not some bullshit alien with a rocket launcher,” I grumbled. _Real mature, Dean._

“And that’s why you’re fucking me in a lake and not Will Smith,” she said cheekily.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, _that’s_ why?”

“What’s this about, Dean?” She brushed my cheekbone with her thumb, her eyes looking over my face. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this. Today has been amazing... Just... why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

I took her hand in mine and kissed her fingertips. How could I say it? It wasn’t in me. But then there was _her_. The way she looked sprawled out in the water whispering, _“All of you.”_ I believed her, and I wanted all of it. Whatever the fuck that meant. “I just...Shit. I suck at this,” I laughed scratching the back of my neck. It tingled from the sunburn I’d gotten from earlier in the day.

“Just try,” she urged gently. “You can tell me anything.”

“Fine,” I said with a quick exhale. “I’m gonna do it before I lose my nerve. I... I don’t want you to go. Don’t want you to leave me. I... you’re important to me, Y/N, always have been. I know I’m not exactly the best... fuck, boyfriend? Guy? I’m not someone to come home to. I’m always in danger, and I make stupid choices. I’m not the guy who gets the happy ending, but I don’t want to lose you.”

She smiled then, a smile that didn’t quite meet her sad, wet eyes. “Dean Winchester, how can you be so smart, but such a fucking idiot at the same time?”

“What?”

“I’m not going anywhere, you fucking asshole. What part of the last half of a decade has made you think that I’m anything other than _completely_ in this? I’ll take whatever you’ll give me. The good, the bad, the ugly. I’ll take you on sunny days, rainy ones, and the ones where the sky is literally falling on our heads. Boyfriend, guy, whoever you want to be. You don’t have to be someone I can come home to, Dean, because I will be the one that _you_ can come home to.” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip like she was trying to sort something out inside of her head.

And fuck if I didn’t love her more than I thought was ever possible.

As soon as the thought entered my head I couldn’t erase it, I couldn’t run from it, or hide. It was there. I was raw and exposed, and I wanted to tell her that I loved her, that I always loved her.

“I’m in love with you, you fucking idiotic asshole. I don’t say it because I know that scares you, but maybe I need to spell it out for you,” she laughed lightly, shaking her head, her hair falling into her eyes. “I love you, and the only way I’m leaving is if you tell me to.”

She loved me, too. _Me_. It felt fake. Like a lie, or a dream. But I was there. I could feel the sand in my fingers, and the exhaustion in my dick from my heart and body bleeding out into her out in the water. Life moved too fucking fast, and suddenly one second is a lifetime, and there Y/N is looking at me with those eyes that took my fucking breath away saying that she wanted it. A life. With me.

“Shit, Dean? Did you hear me?”

I was just staring at her like a fucking idiot, and I let out a breathless laugh. “I think I’m in shock.”

“Dean I...”

“Because, Sweetheart, I never thought in a million lifetimes that you’d ever love me back.”

“Love you... back?”

I gave her a quick nod and her lips bursted into a wide smile. “God you’re the worst,” she mumbled, throwing her arms around my neck so she could kiss me, and breathe life back into my body like she had a thousand times before, and the way she would a thousand times still if I had anything to say about it.


End file.
